Lost in You
by AliceRipper1888
Summary: An America Vietnam short story which may or may not go anywhere. I hope you enjoy.


**Lost in You**

_APH America X Vietnam_

_(Disclaimer: Drug use, mild cursing, war time slang, drama, angst)_

_(Axis Powers Hetalia, "Susie-Q" lyrics Creedence Clearwater)_

(Small short story of America and Vietnam that may or may not go anywhere.)

** I**t wasn't hard to track Alfred down, he stuck out like a sore thumb, but if it was one thing Vietnam had learned through her few encounters with the impetuous young nation, was that he was as unpredictable and as strong as a typhoon. And if he did not want to be found, she was going to have a hell of a time trying to find him.

She pushed her boat along the river guiding it slowly. He was last seen some where on along this river, after all again, a white boy like him is hardly missed. But what was he doing here? China had asked her to find him, he was over due for a meeting and after hearing some talk from the others he might not be doing so well. Vietnam sighed shaking her head, of all places to hide why her home? "Stupid loud mouth." She muttered pushing the boat's rudder more guiding it down a murky channel. However despite the obvious she was a bit worried about the blonde hot head; it wasn't like America to suddenly up and run off ESPECIALLY when it came to meetings.

Sure enough it didn't take her long before familiar strange music caught her ears. Twanging melodies and the smell of cigarettes; a smell she remembered all too well from a time ago. As her boat rounded the bend, she came across a small hutch with a dock where an outboard was tied. The old house or hutch had obviously been abandoned for a very long time, the jungle all but eating away at it; most likely an old outpost or supply stop left over from wars long over.

She pulled up and hopped onto the dock tying her boat beside America's. "What's that idiot doing out this far alone?" She grumbled carefully minding the rotting dock. "Did he get lost again?"

From inside she could hear his music playing, and she soon recognized the song or at least the sound of it. "_Oh Susie-Q, Oh Susie-Q, Oh Susie- Q, baby I love you. Oh Susie-Q!_" she found her cheeks blush briefly then she shook her head and gripped her fists. "Idiot." She grumbled and stomped up the stairs. "America!?" she called pulling her hat back looking around.

She found him lying on his back sprawled on an old beach towel, head resting by his old tape player. His clothes had come off in parts thrown all over the hutch except for his boxers and dirty wife beater. His dog tags resting on his chest, glasses skewed on his face, all around him were empty beer bottles and in his fingers was a blunt. Vietnam froze her heart dropping. The last time he was like this… She shivered remembering all too well what he could do when not in a right mind.

Those days were gone and she had to get this lost disobedient school boy back where he belonged. She took a deep breath and walking over kneeling down to shake his shoulder. "America! Hey! You hear me? Alfred! Get up!" she scolded. America only groaned blue eyes opening and closing drunkenly. "ALFRED!" she barked and slapped him hard across the face. "GET UP!" America startled his shoulders twitching as he shook his head hitching himself up on his elbows reaching out blindly with an unsteady hand. "ERmmmmm… the h-hell…" he gurgled hiccupping letting his arm flop beside him sitting up on his hands chin to his chest. Vietnam waited for him to come to. "Come on Al wake up before I push you into the river." She said. He blinked then swiveled his head to her. His glassy blue eyes blinked separately studying her briefly before he cocked a drunk grin rocking on unsteady arms. "H-Heyyy Charlie!" he chirped stupidly. "What are you doing here?"

Vietnam's cheeks and ears flushed with a combination of anger and something else she did not understand at hearing that nickname. Strange how one name could bring up such mixed emotions.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms sitting on her knees as America took a drag on his blunt. "Looking for you Dinky." She said and reached out snatching it from his fingers and flicked it away. "Get up!" she said slapping his shoulder. "Everyone's been worried about you." She started to stand but America caught her sleeve and pulled her back down. "Come on baby don't be like that." He slurred. Instinctually Vietnam slapped his hand away hard. "I'm not in the mood for your games Alfred Jones! Now get up!" she grabbed his jacket tossing it at him. "Its not my job to babysit you!" America let the jacket hit his face and slide into his lap and he looked at it swaying back and forth before crumbling back to the floor on his back with a chuckle.

He was VERY drunk. Vietnam watched him as he slowly held his hand above his face watching it like a cat watching a gnat buzz around its ears. She sighed confused; America had not smoked or done drugs since the 60's and had not been this drunk in a very long what was wrong? A man does not drink himself stupid like this out of the blue. The young woman walked back over and grabbed his shirt pushing it into his face. "UP!" she commanded. America rolled over on his side curling up escaping the annoying loud noise and smothering fabric. "UP Dinky!" she snarled becoming annoyed whipping his shoulder with the shirt. Again America did nothing, his dirty toes twitching. Vietnam's ears turned red and she continued to smack and nudge him harder and harder as she grew more and more frustrated. "GET UP GET UP You Idiot!" she growled. "Everyone's waiting for you! Get up!" As the shirt came down again to his shoulder.

America's hand suddenly shot up arresting her wrist. Vietnam, startled and tried to pull it away but he had her in a vice grip. She heard her skin creak under his grip as it tightened briefly causing her to wince. She hissed in pain just as he released her. She rubbed the red mark on her wrist. Oddly enough she knew well that was a warning not an attempt to actually hurt her. America could have easily snapped her like a twig if he wanted. She looked to him worried, this wasn't like him at all, in that moment she could tell something was very, very wrong. America curled up his back to her. "Let'em wait… What do they care?" He grumbled, his voice that serious deep tone he rarely gives. It was scary; it was easy to tell when America was serious and it always sent chills through your body.

Vietnam calmed down and scooted closer the twinge in her wrist gone. "What do you mean America?" she said calmly. "They are worried about you."

America snorted. "Yeh right." He gurgled shivering. "They don't care. I'm not dumb." He retorted. "I never said you were." Vietnam argued. "I bet you think it. Why not? Everyone else does." And there it was. "I do not and I don't appreciate you putting words in my mouth America!" she said defensively reaching our pulling his shoulder towards her forcing him to roll back over. He groaned hiding his eyes with the back of his arm the glaring, jungle, light drifting through the doorway. "Now what is this nonsense Dinky?" She asked continuing to call him by his old nickname she had given him. America groaned and let his arm slowly flop lifelessly back by his head taking his glasses with it. "…Leave me alone." He whined pitifully. "No." Vietnam said bluntly. "Now talk to me Al." she pressed gently trying to keep her voice a steady almost maternal tone as if she were talking to a sleepy child. America only stared up at the thatched roof biting his bottom lip tight. "Al." she coaxed reaching out, "Come on now, I can see something's hurting you. I'm not stupid either." Her long delicate fingers touched the dirt streaks on his flushed cheek. The blue orbs lulled towards her then to her hand his frame flinching briefly before his eyes rolled back and closed. She could smell the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath as he gave a long strangled sigh. "Don… wanna… alone." He gurgled out incoherently before he slipped into a drunken doped slumber. Vietnam sighed defeated and decided to take this time to look him over. She reached out and took his fallen glasses and replaced them delicately back onto his nose brushing the sticky blonde hair from his face. What had reduced him to this? Why was he back here like this again?

She looked around the broken down hutch again littered with bottles. How long had he been here? Her eyes passed over a hole in the back wall the wood splintered from a single blow from the inside. A nasty delirious punch no doubt; she looked back to his hand noticing the dried blood and scraps stained with alcohol. Suddenly she heard a raspy cough escape his lips and he just groaned curling up more. Was he sick? She had not heard anything, then again a country like America would want to keep his illnesses under wraps for good reasons. She reached out feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. He felt warm.

Vietnam found herself smiling as her fingers threaded through the honey blonde hair petting it. America sighed contently in his sleep. She never could understand what drew her to him. He was very handsome, young, ambitious, happy, strong and extremely charismatic. She had gotten swept up in his numerous rambling speeches once or twice. It was like he sucked up all the sun in that head of his and just spit it back out when he talked. He was the wind, wild free and untamable. Many thought of him as bird or a bear. He certainly had the strength and temper of a bear if poked or angered. She had seen and felt that strength before, more ways than she'd care to admit. Both tragic and heroic. She found her cheeks blushing again as her hand caressed him; he was like something from a dream or a story; perfect and horrible all at once one moment here and the next gone.

"_Say that you'll be true, say that you'll be true and never leave me blue…_" She reached over and stopped the tape then sighed pulling her hand to her chest. Yes, just an old fairy tale nothing more…

**A**merica's eyes fluttered open to see the thatched roof, the sound of chirping jungle birds in the rainy jungle outside echoing in his sensitive ears. He groaned and lifted a leadened bandaged hand to his eyes rubbing them. "Ohhhunngg. What hit me?" he croaked. His throat was dry, his body cold yet he could feel himself sweating. Vietnam leaned into his view her hand holding a fan waving it gently to cool him off. "America?" she asked. "H-Huh? Charlie? That you?" he asked blinking his eyes making them focus. She sighed and smiled relieved. "Hey Dinky." She said reaching down wiping his forehead off. "Welcome back to the world of the living." America groaned and slowly hitched himself up. "Easy." She said reaching behind him incase he fell back. He looked over at her then to the towel draped over him and the pillow behind his head. His hand had been bandaged up and all the dirt and grime cleaned away from his face. "H-How long…" he began but gripped his head rubbing the sharp pain away. "Easy about an hour or so." Vietnam replied fixing the towel draped over his legs.

"Heh, looks like you got me all cleaned up huh? Thanks." He said. She nodded handing him a bottle of water folding the fan. "Yes, here drink some you're dehydrated." America took the offer gulping it down relieving his parched throat. The plastic crumpled under his hand till only a few drops were left and he sighed contently. "Thanks again Viet." He said gingerly wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. She shrugged answering "Không Sao."

America sighed relaxing back on his arm looking around the room, his heavy head spun making the world unsteady. "Where am I?" he asked. "You were _supposed_," she stressed stacking another pillow behind him. "to be in China's home for a meeting today but you never arrived so they got worried. Word was you were in my home so I came to look for you incase you got lost, and,"

"Found me trashed huh, yeh yeh I can fill in the rest now." He interrupted resting his head in his hand. She looked at him and reached out touching his bandaged hand. "Al," she said looking into his endless blue eyes. "What's wrong please, tell me. What has made you hurt so?"

America avoided her gaze, "N-nothing I just… I just didn't want to go to a stupid meeting is all." Vietnam waited quietly her hand still resting on his. His thumb relaxed allowing hers to slip between his fingers. "We never accomplish anything," he finally continued looking away. "I mean we just agree to stuff we're never gunna care about." He paused to cough covering his mouth. "So what's the point of even going?"

"They need you there America." Vietnam argued delicately. America snorted, "Puh! Yeh right! They don't need me. We only need all of each other for "formality" its parliamentary procedure anyway; 1/3 majority rules so it wont make much difference with me there or not." He said bitterly holding in another cough. "But they are you're comrades America they are worried about you." She pressed still searching for that nerve she plucked earlier and found it. "Friends?! Yeh, we're friends alright with every stupid string attached. You owe me this you owe me that, don't do this don't do that. You deserve this you deserve that. Can't help this can't help that. Fucking stupid… I'm n-not *cough* s-stupid." He had to stop to cough. Vietnam rubbed his quivering shoulders. "Easy, easy. No one says you are." She said offering him some more water. "Drink." America looked to the water and chugged it faster than the first and crushed the bottle in his fist letting it drop beside him when he finished.

"Where have you been Charl-… Viet?" he quickly corrected his bad habit. "Everyone thinks I'm stupid. Haven't you heard, 'the ass hole of the world'," he waved his hands emphatically. "I can read, I know what the world thinks about me. And normally I don't give a care but…" he looked to his knees. "B-but, w-when its all you hear e-even from your own people. W-when your own people say t-they're ashamed of you…" tears started to form in his eyes. "W-when you're told you're not worth fighting for anymore, that you're ruined and hopeless." He bit his lip forcing his tears back with a hard gulp his feverish frame shaking. "I-it gets to you, ya know? It's hard to be a hero if no one thinks you are." his voice cracked. "A-And I just… I just wanted to get away that's all. Forget." He admitted.

Vietnam sighed and rubbed his hand comfortingly. "I do know what that's like. Its ok Alfred I know it hurts, nothing hurts worse than to think you are not loved by your own people. But that's no reason to run away, and do this to yourself. There are still plenty who love you otherwise you wouldn't be alive right?" she pointed out. The blonde nodded stifling another cough sniffing. "I-It's just…" he began. She watched blood drip on to his clenched fist. "Al? Are you alright?" she asked alarmed. He turned back blood dripping from his nose. She gasped and quickly grabbed a cloth and held it to his nose forcing his head back. "Here lean back you're bleeding." America grunted and tried to worm free but she held him still till he finally gave up letting her doctor him. "Danks." He muffled out through the cloth. She nodded still concerned. "America, tell me truthfully. Are you sick?" she asked. He panted through his mouth as she pinched his nose shut. His breath was still heavy with that suffocating strong alcohol stench. "No… W-what makes you say that?"

Vietnam glared at him incredulously. America tried to chuckle, "You're funny." He said sweetly. "Shut it Dinky. You reek." She muttered shaking her head from the overwhelming smell of Weed and Beer. "Hey," he smiled. "I-I think I'm ok now you can let my nose go."

"No, one more minute. Now talk to me Al, are you sick?" she asked again. America shrugged weakly. "J-just a c-c-old." He sputtered. "Uh-huh, is that also why you are here? And why you completely 'trashed' yourself?" she continued. America looked away again. "Not exactly." He admitted as she slowly guided his head back checking the cloth to see if he was still bleeding. "Then why Al? You cannot expect me to believe that this," she gestured to the bottles and blunts she had cleaned up. "Something you have not don't in decades, is just because you felt bad over something like that." America sighed shaking his head. "You're right its not; but it seemed the easiest thing to admit."

"Then why? Why here? Why Al?" she demanded. "I-I don't know I…" he paused turning to her their eyes meeting. "I-I just…I w-wanted to get lost. I always felt like I-I could get lost h-here and… and… I-I…" suddenly his face grew very pale, "Al?" he wobbled and with a groan fell forward. Vietnam reached out catching him in her arms his head hitting her chest. "Al! Al!" she cried shaking him. He shivered in her arms hiccupping weakly. "ALFRED!" she cried. "Errrmm… P-Please, stop hollering Charlie. I'm still g-got one hell of a hang over." He mumbled weakly. She popped his head, "Stop calling me C-Charlie!" she said trying to keep him from hearing her worry. "Alright Susie-Q s-sorry." He breathed. Her heart skipped and her cheeks blushed. America had several nicknames for her, but that one. No not that one.

"W-what?" she stammered. America panted his head resting on her breast. "Al?" his breathing was labored a little, his blue eyes dull. "America?" she asked again lifting his head into the crook of her arm rolling him over on his back. "Alfred? Can you hear me?"

"…S-s..ry." he whispered. "I… I'm s-sorry S-Susie. I-I…" he rambled half conscious. "Shhhh shhh," Vietnam swallowed hard and rested her forehead against his attempting to calm him. It was a gesture of comfort amongst countries, when they placed their foreheads against each other it could help relax them and was only used… with ones they trusted. She bit her lip fighting to keep her composure, "Shhhh shhhh. Its alright its alright. I know you are Al, I know. We all are, its over now." His eyes slowly opened, glassy tears trickling down them and he reached up grabbing the tie to her hat. "N-not for me babe," and he pulled her to his lips weakly kissing them. Vietnam gasped unable to fight caught off guard as his lips locked to hers. Her heart sped up, cheeks now completely red. Why? What was this feeling? It was over; that was just a fairy tale, fleeting like a summer wind.

She did not pull away as she hugged his back holding him to her. Why? Why him? Why couldn't she pull away? The warmth, the passion, that terrible heat that miserable, miserable wonderful heat. Her heart bursting and pattering like those damned guns; how could something so wonderful be so devastating?

The two stayed locked in each other's arms as that forbidden warm wind kicked up again, the rain hissing through the jungle belting the leaves. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her one arm let go and reached forward clutching his dog tags. Why? This impetuous loud mouth. This was the same reckless nitwit who went surfing while bombs were fired! The same idiot who got high and fired off napalm bombs to watch the colors Why him!? The same idiot who… who promised to help her… save her when she didn't need saving! Who swept her off her feet and danced with her under the moon… That night, it was a fairy tale; a beautiful tragic fairy tale where they became lost in each other. Why couldn't she let it go? And that stupid song! That stupid nickname! Why? Why couldn't she forget that story?

Love or war, which is more devastating and destructive?

"_Oh Susie-Q, Oh Susie-Q, Oh Susie Q baby I love you…. Susie-Q."_


End file.
